Jumma Chumma Mat de!

I start this post in a strange way, with a wiki reference. 

Kiss of Love protest is a non-violent protest against moral policing started in Kerala and later spread to other parts of India. The movement began when a Facebook page called 'Kiss of love' asked the youth across Kerala to participate in a protest against moral policing on November 2 at Marine Drive, Cochin

In the famous Hindi song, picturized on India’s poor farmer, the fellow asks the girl for a kiss, singing “Jumma Chumma de de” as she refuses his demands. Now things have a changed. It’s more like “Chumma le le”. How Mr. Bach would’ve wished he was born in today’s world where kissing in movies is the norm and doing the same in public becomes a full blown campaign.

But my job is not to give my two pence worth on why its right or wrong or perform any moral policing upon the youths. I’ll just be penning, sorry writing… sorry typing out my thoughts on how stupid it is; both, to start such a motion and to have police and religious bigots trying to stop it. India is a country where nothing lasts for long, especially campaigns and movements targeting the (however non-existent it might be) LAW.

An article that I stumbled across online, caught my eye as it was totally against this campaign, demeaning it uncultured and un-hindutva or whatever else. The following questions are similar to those posed in the article but I promise, the answers not. Rather they are intended to cause total damage to everybody’s religious sentiments and downgrade the culture of my country to new and abject lows.

Q.1) Kissing is all about love, why are you against it? Anything to do with Indian culture or religion(s)?
A) What the hell? Who said we’re against love? We are liberal people and a secular country. Yes we will keep saying that we wrote the Kama sutra and that we don’t oppose sex and PDA but we’ll continue to do the same. Because, Hypocrisy.

Q.2) But why the blatant hypocrisy?
A) We saw 12 year old girls get pregnant in the west and thought, “Well we have 12 year old girls getting married and thus pregnant, so it’s fine as they’re married.” It’s the unmarried lot that we’re concerned about, however mature or sensible (or not) they might be.

Q.3) Pissing is allowed in India and kissing is not? Your take?
A) Bhai pissing is a natural occurrence. It helps to fertilize the soil and thus makes the trees grow faster. So we let that happen (no not as a law but ae vai). Also, we do what the West has stopped doing and vice versa. The West has almost stopped kissing on streets, so we started it. Ask them to start pissing please.
Plus, we can’t let our kids see this happening live. They have movies and sitcoms for ‘those scenes’. 

Q.4) But I heard it’s still common in the West to kiss in public, so why not follow suit?
A) Arre baba (getting irritated) I said na, they have almost stopped there. We do what they don’t. Let me explain. They have fantastic infrastructure, great planning and the ability to put in the hard yards. Do we have that? We can kiss, piss and get hard (Kamasutra founders you see).
And if two adults get too cozy in public in the developed countries they’re asked to get a room. ROOM?!?!? Kitna mehenga hai pata hai kya? Bandstand jaisa room nahi hai koi! Ekdum khullam khulla! 

Q.5) But why pick on these adolescent nobody’s?
A) Yes, I was coming to that. We have to protect our ancient culture and heritage. Dowry, casteism, domestic violence, acid attacks, rapes, eve teasing… all these petty issues can be handled by our extremely capable cops. Also, weren’t the first three examples a part of our culture? So we cannot possibly oppose them. To hell with the women (and men) who suffer due to these glaring issues. I hope I’ve answered your questions. Now if you may let me go I have to catch some youths kissing on the road and slap them with charges of promoting homosexuality as well.

COME ON INDIA…NO FOOTBALL!

Bonjour les amis!

After a bit of a hiatus from writing, I’m back to meddle with your brains while I attempt to locate my own (in vain). In spite of promising you and myself that I’ll write anything but sports on this blog, the sports freak in me let me down. And as all promises are meant to be broken (Guys, try telling that to your girlfriend and meet me if you survive) this one too meets the same fate. I couldn’t stave off the mother ship and in any case, the blog is based on world affairs and sport is a world affair (ball games…err…you get the point)

Rather strangely though, it is a world affair apart from Cricket, which has been downgraded to the status of a local sport now. Not exactly, with the Chinese taking to bats and balls after failing to drive, but Shaolin Cricket and racist jibes isn’t what I’m discussing here.

You have to believe that a country blessed with sportsmen of the caliber of Venkatpathy Raju and top notch athletes like Munaf Patel must be brimming with talent in the sporting industry. With fitness connoisseurs like Viru and VVS in their ranks, always ready to give a tri-athlete a run for his money, Indian Sport is in safe hands.

See what I did there? I’m Indian goddammit and the only sport I know is cricket so my analogies and examples are bound to revolve around the gentleman’s game. Cricket is my religion and… nonsense of the sort.

My peers and friends (yes I do have friends too) have asked me as to why India is top notch at cricket and equally abject at other sports. I never put too much thought into this, putting it down to genetics, interest and a penchant to do minimum work.

The best football player…no not soccer, you nosey republicans! How a sport that involves throwing a leather egg can be called football mystifies me. But we’ll deal with that on a later date. Coming back, the best football player in the world, a certain CR7 said sometime back that he was frustrated with his country’s abject performances at world events. Although he was captain, the others have to pass that round thing to him, of which they were/are incapable. He narrowed down the reason to Portugal; a small nation with small copu… err population, incapable of producing quality players on a regular basis.

Sir I request you to play for India. We have a rich Portuguese history in Mumbai which also has a Santacruz, so you’ll feel totally at home. Also we have a huge fanbase which is much more than the population of your country. Major concern also solved mate! We aren’t a small country incapable of producing talent.

We are a billion plus people, rooting for you with all our might and totally incapable of producing 20 world beaters (and I mean w.r.t. sports and not literally). The fact that we suck at both is another story altogether.

Yes my friends, the most populous country in the world and the best that we’ve managed to far in producing Europe quality football players is: Sun-Chet. In Sporting Lisbon’s B team. Without  getting a game.

Seriously? B-team? No game time there too?
My friend, Mr. Patil had to say this,”Arre bhai he captain no in country? How you not take him to kick-ball?

But Mr. Patil, he no able kick ball also better than 17 yr old Portugalese kid.

Enough with the rubbish English, lest the Queen sue me.

I can very well get down and serious into the nitty-gritty’s of why we can’t make the cut or what is lacking in Indian football, or other sports in general but I’m apparently not mature enough yet. Although the ISL is a decent move, it doesn’t seem anything other than a pension plan for retired footballers. So till we really improve from the roots upwards, its… COME ON INDIAAAA…NO FOOTBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL!

Book review: There’s always a price tag- James Hadley Chase

My first sane post..read on:

Consider the age old plot; a man commits a murder and then tries to cover up by making it appear to be a suicide and escape scot-free. Renowned mystery and thriller author René Lodge Brabazon Raymond, better known by his pseudonym James Hadley Chase, turns this clichéd plot upside down in his book, “There’s always a Price Tag”. He offers us a reverse of this tale; about a man who attempts to make a suicide look like a murder to get his mitts on the massive insurance sum of the victim.

While loafing around a midnight bar, Glyn Nash, a freelancer rescues Hollywood mogul Erle Dester who is in an inebriated state, from being tagged by a speeding car. Impressed by the young man’s quick thinking and reflexes, Dester takes him home and soon appoints Nash his “chauffeur-cum-handyman job” where he “would be at his beck and call twenty-four hours of the day”.

Naturally Nash seems uninterested, considering how poorly most rich men treat their chauffeurs, but a voice from behind him, that of Dester’s sultry wife Helen roots him to the spot. Chase brilliantly describes Nash’s feelings upon seeing Helen as, “Have you ever fiddled with an electric fitment and got a shock up your arm? Of course you have; you know the kind of jolt it gives you: something you can't control; a jolt that hurts, but doesn't bruise; something that hits your muscles and leaves you a little breathless”.  It’s typically Chase here with his analogies and references to common objects to define someone so attractive!

Nash gets nosey and manages to find out that before marrying Dester, Helen was involved with another man in New York who dies under mysterious circumstances but Helen was unable to acquire the insurance money after his death. He also finds out that Dester has been insured for a huge sum of 750000 dollars which Helen would inherit in case of her husband’s death, for which she has been trying to knock him off.  Again Chase at the top of his game describing Nash’s sentiments; “A chill as cold and as creepy as the finger of death crawled up my spine”

With the situation very ripe for a conspiracy, Nash blackmails Helen about knowing all this and they both hatch a plan to kill Dester, who in any case was deep in debt and on the verge of bankruptcy. It all goes well until a cruel twist of fate wherein Dester confides in Helen and Nash that he would be committing suicide and only if it can be proven as murder would Helen inherit all his wealth. Saying this he shoots himself.

Panicking, Helen and Nash dump the body in the freezer and think of a way to cover up the suicide as murder. They concoct a cock and bull story about Dester being out of town for a business trip while Nash comes up with a blitzkrieg idea about Dester being kidnapped on his way to a sanatorium. Helen and Nash hire a housemaid and use her as witness when Nash poses as Dester and slips out of the house. The plan is that Glyn would tie up Helen to show as if she is kidnapped so as to alert the police. But in his quest for realism, he accidentally strikes a fatal blow to Helen and kills her.

As fate would have it, Nash finds out that Dester had in fact left his entire fortune for him. Whether Nash succeeds in escaping to bag the money or falls to his doom by being nabbed by the shrewd and experienced Maddox – Harmers combination keeps the reader glued to the book.

An ingenious plot, subtle deception and  a great, fast paced storyline that keeps you captivated with some Chase specials, it’s a must read!

Baba bama kya hai drama!

Place: Iraq, Syria or any other oil bearing + machine gun wielding country.

Time: Anytime.

Purpose: Bald Eagle troops running amok in pursuit of bearded men and nuclear arms (read Oil)

If this to you seems like an RSVP invite then you are an American trooper who has no natural enemies and thus sets base in Middle Eastern states to conjure up a few. Who doesn’t get a kick out of war eh?!

Bho who officially is the leader of Ira…afgha..pakis..sorry..America has always loved displaying his overt obsession for peace in every other nation that it’s unclear as to which country he really belongs to. Having taken up world peace as his primary objective, he wages war against any country, state or gram panchayat that threatens to burst his bubble. Honestly, taking over the mantle from GW Jr. was never going to be an easy task. Spending billions on nonsense is a dying art and ‘O’ not only seems to have seamlessly taken over but rather surpassed all his predecessors.

Conniving to burst into Middle Eastern nations with alarming, repeated and barefaced regularity seems to be a forte of American President. Not that one would expect them to be any less nosey (after all this seems to be the prime criteria for the recipients of AF1). Speaking of which, Bama off late has been completing his bucket list, which included a trip to Stonehenge. No sir, no oil in these rocks. Wonder if this list also includes shortening his nose (nope, I don’t expect him to do an MJ).

After raiding into my neighbor land to blow Sama to smithereens, the Bald Eagles decided to spread their wings; or re-spread, however you like to consider it. Sitting idle is just too mainstream (or Indian politician like) you see! They’ve got so good at being nosey now, that just a few years after getting their asses off Sad-dam territory they almost anticipated the increasing turmoil there. Again the, ”Thy peace be my peace”, global brotherhood kicked in and they touched down into a huge Cr-isis.

Who’re these Cr-isis mongers u ask? They were born to a secret mating ritual between Martians and retarded executioners from the 1600’s. Well no. I have no clue and honestly I prefer irritating my peers for a few more glorious years before I decide to hang up my he..err boots.

After Sad-dam, we now had angry-dam (excuse the bad joke) and they began to gun down anything in their path. Why they would target American journos is beyond the realms of my puny intelligence. I mean seriously is Bama going to have chills down his spine every night after two innocent citizens of his country are…well let’s cut out the gore (pun unintended).

Joke: What would Bama be called if he lied a lot (more than he does now)?

Ans: Pinnochi-o-bama!

Other countries although, would be bloody miffed. Longer nose? Not nosey enough eh?

Thus my friends, to be assured of world peace we must hope and pray that Bho continues to launder the federal reserves on his nose(y) jobs.

Cheerio!

AG, OG, 2G, Sunoji!

Hola Amigos!

Hope the sudden invocation of a Spanish welcome doesn’t put you off reading this post. For a change I’ve managed to post immediately after a major event/incident/accident (for the dynasty at least) has occurred.

As I get more mature and my gray matter ripens, I believe I can voice my thoughts on anything and everything that happens on planet earth with no basic understanding of the subject and no regard for the feelings of the people who I am about to insult. Well that’s called growing up I hear. This sarcasm laden rant in on the 2G(‘s) of India.

Sorry folks, I’m not going into technical specifications of the network and how the bandwidth functions while providing ultra high speed internet. It doesn’t refer to the 2Gs who have run my country for the last decade (or maybe it does). Ra-G and So-G have contrived to form a perfect cartel here, the profits of which are being and will continue to be reaped for the coming 25 generations.

To be honest, I pity these G’s. How they had hoped to last another decade and provide for a golden jubilee of G(enerations). The Gs, viz. G and 2G have made the modern India what it is today.
The first G was MKG.
Then we had 2G: Ra-G and So-G

Elaborating on all the Gs would require me to behave my age and will have to be preceded by Pluto being re-inducted into the league of planets. You get the point right?

1G gave us a gift of gargantuan proportions; the one gift that we all have to be proud of, the friendly, neighborhood sisterland. The frequency with which our historian and journo brothers comment on this with a utopian point of view is beyond the realms of my pea-sized brain. Seriously guys, we've endlessly slated the laughing man on our banknotes for giving us THIS masterpiece. You should thank him instead. Ungrateful twits!

The 2G’s are the reason why our economy has surged past the likes of Burkina Faso and Djibouti in the last decade. Also, they’ve ensured that we stay years ahead of the sisterland. Who cares if the west if light years and galaxies ahead of us in every aspect? We aren’t nosey like them you see!
My then PM, the person I respect the most on the planet; Mr. Maun Vrath gave the biggest contribution of them all. See how many guys fret when their girls give them the silent treatment? You never know what’s wrong. Yet something is and you’re dead bro!
MMS gave the entire country a silent treatment. So-G, Ra-G and all the other braniacs in charge of running the country hatched a master plan; to get the Turbanator to give us all a piece of his mind. They huffed and they puffed and they blew…well whatever..the fellow didn’t talk. Silent treatment to you now biatch!

All hell broke loose when the 2G scam was made public and the junta realized that the reason to be miffed with 2G was not just ultra high speed internet! A. King proceeded to make billions just from sitting on his desk and making a few phonecalls(albeit on 2G network). Get rich fast schemes for all on 2G! More so, our King rejected recommendations made by the Turbanator and went on to hatch his own plans to rival Bill Gates. He conveniently subverted the first come first serve policy for granting licenses and converted them to first pay first serve policy. He gave licenses to a gorgeous white bird (symbol of love) and some silly co’s while considering telecom rates from the Stone Age (the fact that he managed to bag close to $500mn as “fees” befuddles me even more). How could foreign companies be so senile? Aren’t gora-langurs supposed to be the epitome of smartness? On a side note, our current, new Ab ki baar PM could’ve borrowed some funds from the King. Afterall the King is supposed to grant funds ain’t he?

A recent interview between Mr. Ar-now and the former CAG (nope, nothing to do with WAG) led to some startling revelations. Firstly, ex-CAG claimed that our dear Turbanator knew about the 2G jhamela, knew about the King’s involvement but remained quiet. My good Lord! How did he manage not to talk? The man with the greatest oratory skills since Brutus and Mark Antony actually kept mum on the entire matter and allowed it to be trivialized. Now the sun shall finally rise from the West!
Ar-now goes on to use his very unhackneyed phrase “The whole country wants to know”! ; This with respect to the scam. Honestly mate; does the entire country even know what 2G stands for? Leave aside the knowhow of how a King can loot his courtiers (and courtesans). As for those who are abreast with this nonsense, they already know everything and can do nothing. They are just as tongue tied as Mr. Maun Vrath.

As the famous song goes: AG, OG, 2G sunoji, main hoon Manmoha....G!
Nahi sun sakte, tu toh bolta hi nahi pappay!

Ab ki baar..bas karo yaar!

Warning: The following post contains references to senile people or events. Parental Guidance is advised.

(As usual, I’m late in writing something on a relevant topic. After my last attempt at utilizing my so called gray matter in combining words to make sense, here is another bit of tepidity from the vault.)

Circa April 2014(yes it seems that far back now) and my country had its 5 yearly dose of elections that help satisfy her democratic intentions.  In the “glorious” 68 year history, (yes 68 only, before that it feels like apartheid era South Africa) this was one of the most one sided elections, where the opposition served as a filler. Ironically silly as it may sound, a dynasty was the ruling party in India for the last 10 years. Some democracy that! The fact that they were all but awful in every aspect remains another story and shall be dealt with at a later time.

Their apparent alliance called the UPA, aimed to take India UPA[r] but all that they succeeded in doing was causing the economy to slide towards an infinite abyss. The Indian economy was taking a hit, inflation was rising at the rate of knots and all this while something big was going UPA[r] for them, atleast personally. That something has Gandhi Uncle’s photo on it and boy does he seem chuffed about being there!

Having stashed away a blue-whale load of Gandhi uncles in white cross flagged banks, our famed dynasty tried to take another potshot at success in the democracy(and stash some more uncles in the white crosses). They campaigned and made huge banners, posters and advertisements which made one feel that they were up for another tryst with my country’s people. But it all went downhill as soon as their El Supremo, Mr. Trinity, RAG, call him what u want proved that money can buy you everything, apart from a brain (you see, brain transplants require the subject to have some of the pink stuff already present within the cranium).

So, when the man with 4 vocal cords and a dB level equal to a fleet of F-16’s in supersonic flight interviewed Mr. Trinity, all hell broke loose(if hell is this senile I pity Satan). Mr. Goswami reduced (or increased) Mr. Trinity to the level of us engineering students at our vivas, where we believe in ‘If you can’t convince them, confuse them’. El Supremo though, did manage to convince everybody that his skull is as empty as the opposite end of a black hole.

The election thus was eventually and obvious won by whoever were opposite the dynasty democrats! In this case it happened to be Mr. NM (nope he doesn’t own the college..yet), who won it piggybacking on a great PR agent and a major hammering on people’s ears, eyes and brains  of “ABKI BAAR…SARKAR!” Bloody everything from tar, to a car to Chama… (sorry I’m not racist) was used to form a dumb rhyme. But as dumb as it was, it led to a landslide victory for out chaiwallah (excuse the slumdog reference but then again, I have to increase the length of the post). God damn it worked just fine and my country now has a new PM. The Italian job finally came to an end and the mafia must be trembling, wondering about the havoc if our Italian imports return to their homeland. Poor Ol’ Silvio, already fighting a huge case and now the prospect of this!

NM has promised to make India into Japan (yes no China this time, maal tikta nahi hai na jaasti), what with the bullet train and a possible $35bn influx into the mother nation! For all of its effectiveness and future use(hell no!) it finally got to my nerves when I saw a poster which read, “AB HAR BAAR..SARKAR”.

It made me scream, yes literally and made a few heads turn on the railway bridge, “AB KI BAAR, BAS KARO YAAR!!!!”

p.s. The writer has just awoken from a 3 year slumber. Stultification of your mental growth after reading will be expected.

BhO-Bama!

This is something that i should've posted a way back, when the Big O (as people stupidly call him) visited the country. It seems pretty retarded to think that Bama here would actually go on a tour of an entire continent and sit resolving the internal affairs of the countries involved (or even dwell upon them). But then aren't our leaders happily contriving to condemn the fate of the country towards complete senility?!
Back to Mr. Bama then, his convoys land at the airport around 2 days before his AF1 sees our soil for the first time.(and i'm hoping it’s the last)
The(not so) Secret Service apparently want to secure the area so that Bama's pocket isn't picked and he doesn't encounter any bhikaris and chhakkas on the streets. Mr. Bama, you really think that our beggar and eunuch community have no other work than to follow your Cadillac in an attempt to extort a couple of bucks from your driver? C'mon they know you aren't even close to being as wealthy as some of our MLA's. Also the security arrangements made for B.H.O.(hey, isn't that also an abbreviation of an expletive? bho****ke something??) were downright silly and the SS really need to get their brains checked. I mean, getting the coconuts from all the palm trees removed so that one of them doesn't fall onto Bho or on C1 creating a dent(its expensive to remove a dent from a bullet/explosive proof car you see). Also, why then were the birds allowed to fly freely? Some random crow (and we don't have a scarcity of them here) could've decided to relieve himself on C1 or on Bho even. Imagine na, Bho's brilliant black suit with a nice little white patch signifying the never ending bond between humans and nature!
So, the SS bums attempt to force their way on the cops and babus of the financial capital, actually thinking that they're going to make those hardheaded nuts budge. It doesn't work like that here guys! You need to shove wads of $100 bills into their…err…wallets if you're even considering making them work.
Once settled in the city, Bho then gives a nice speech on terrorist attacks in the city and how we faced up to them and our bravery... yada yada and how 'we' must turn CT and quickly departs for the national capital. Sir, we appreciate your acceptance that we've been brave and we have it in us to become CT's in the near future, but shouldn't you be looking at your own backyard, where a certain Sama has been hatching up big 'programs' for the betterment of his clan(he belongs to the T if i'm not mistaken)
Hey! Are we playing CS here or is this a post aimed at stultifying your thinking ability?? Anyway, moving onto more important matters.

Joke: What would you call Bama if he was a dog?
Bark Bama! :P

While leaving for the capital, Bho doesn't receive a red carpet send off(guess he was late and it got taken away for somebody more important)
The ensuing conversation was as follows:
Bho: I no get red carpet. I sad. I stay in plane till carpet come.
Mrs. Bho: You jerk, what ya cribbin' for? A carpet? Who da hell asked yo to go dancin' wid ol those kids 'er? Made a right fool out of yerself on T.V. ! The kids sent me a message 'er asking me why daddy playing monkey with school kids! You da one who late! Now get out of da f***in' chopper and place yo ass on dat aircraft!
So, as Bho and Mrs. are about to enter AF1;

Mr. 'Adarsh' Chavan: Sir, Sir, sorry for no red carpet. Your wind blows it away sir.(i know our food is spicy, but passing wind to blow away a carpet! :P ) We are giving away sea facing flat. Top quality sir, ekdum jhakaas. Bas sir you have to sign here saying that you will give our children some jobs when they come to your country(try re-reading this in a typical Marathi accent, it'll enhance the effect).
Bho: Well, your proposal isn't bad, we can consider it if you promise to let us interfere into your national matters as much as we want.
M.A.C: Yes sir, ok sir.
Bho: Ok then done *flicks out pen and signs* Goodbye.
AF1 takes off and Bho gets bye bye'd by MAC.

M.A.C(to his secretary) :Kasla chu aahe re, ghanta president. Dila Adarsh madhe majhya navacha flat, mee tari sutlo! (What a jerk,  President eh? I've given him ownership of my flat in Adarsh, I’m free now)

Bho's visit to the National capital is not even worth a mention as he wasn't even close to being as entertaining as he was in my city(but still out of respect i mention it here)

More posts to follow, but only after I've managed to dig deeper into what's left of the stuff contained in my skull(and there isn't too much left with my job!)